


Absolutely Nothing

by makkachino



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, YOI Secret Santa 2018, birthday shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkachino/pseuds/makkachino
Summary: Yuuri gives Viktor exactly what he wants for his birthday.





	Absolutely Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duesterkitsch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duesterkitsch/gifts).



> Hey, long time no see!
> 
> This fic is a gift for [duesterkitsch](http://duesterkitsch.tumblr.com/) for the Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Santa exchange. It ended up being a Viktor's Birthday story, rather than a strictly Christmas one, though. I hope you enjoy reading it, and happy holidays!

Viktor meant it, when he said he didn’t care to celebrate his birthday. There really wasn’t a deep reason behind it; there was no tragic backstory, no birthday or Christmas-related trauma that had soured him to the whole experience. Quite the opposite - some of his best childhood memories were of birthday parties, before his skating career effectively served most of his schoolyard friendships, and aging grandparents became too old to visit him. His first pair of ice skates had been a birthday present. His beloved dog, Makkachin, had also been a birthday/Christmas present. If anything, his reason for not wanting to celebrate was actually quite boring:

He could never justify wasting time on something like that.

Between choreographing his own routines, choreographing routines for his fellow skaters, fitness training, practice, coaching Yuuri (and all of the unique challenges that entailed), and now planning an impending wedding, it was harder than ever to make time for  _ anything else _ , let alone a completely frivolous party. Growing older wasn’t an accomplishment, it wasn’t something Viktor had to work for, or even did of his own free will. It was something that everyone did, and he wasn’t special or different because of it. If he was going to set aside time from his responsibilities and career to do anything, he’d prefer to take a nap. Or at the very least, spend that time relaxing with his dog and his fiance. 

Unfortunately, despite expressing that preference, very explicitly,  _ multiple times _ , Yuuri was planning something. Exactly what that something was, Viktor had no idea; Yuuri denied the fact that he was scheming, when Viktor confronted him. But the (admittedly, very adorable) pink flush that spread across his cheeks, and the way he avoided looking Viktor in the eye whenever the subject came up, gave him away more than words ever could. 

Yuuri was up to something.

Viktor’s chest felt heavy with dread.

 

* * *

 

Maybe it was a bit unfortunate, that Viktor, of all the people on earth, was part of the minority who didn’t care to celebrate his birthday. Having a Christmas birthday meant that, if  _ someone  _ \- a very cute, thoughtful, but misguided someone - wanted to plan a party, there was very little on his schedule to clear. His personal trainer took the day off, most of his fellow skaters were long gone on trips to see their own families, and even if they weren’t, the rink was closed. Even Yakov insisted on taking a half-day for himself; after their typical morning routine, he was completely free of commitments, without so much as a happy birthday mumbled in Viktor’s direction.

_ Because he’s planning to tell me later, at the party, _ Viktor thought. It was all so transparent! He didn’t know how Yuuri expected him  _ not  _ to find out! 

Even his ploy to get Viktor out of the house was so obvious. _ Makka’s so wound up, from being cooped up all day. Take her for a nice, long walk, I’ll try to have dinner going by the time you get back. _

Viktor, for the first time since Yuuri had come to live with him, didn’t want to go home. He stared at the doorknob for a solid minute before he opened it, steeling himself for the loud, boisterous  _ Happy Birthday! _ that was sure to greet him-

But when Viktor opened the door, all was quiet. The apartment was almost exactly as he left it. Viktor glanced around the room, not beliving his own eyes; no friends, no family, no decorations or gifts or cake. Just Yuuri, two bowls of some sort of soup, a large loaf of bread, and a few blankets neatly folded on the couch.

“Yuuri, what’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday present.”

“Yuuri, I don’t understand.” Viktor could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Could it be… No, it was only a matter of seconds before the rest of the guests jumped out of their hiding spots to surprise him, causing him to jump out of his pants with fright. And then he would have to spend his evening smiling and laughing, socializing even though all he really wanted was to sit down, eat some of that soup, and maybe even go to bed early for a change.

But they never did. No one jumped out, no one shouted, _ Happy birthday, Viktor! _ Nothing, silence.

“The present is…?”

“Nothing.” Yuuri replied simply, arms crossed over his chest, proud as a peacock. “I asked you what you wanted to do, to celebrate your birthday, and you said,  _ nothing _ . So, that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Nothing,” Viktor repeated. That unbearably heavy feeling, the one that might as well have been a dumbbell sitting on his chest, evaporated instantly.

Yuuri nodded, his expression smug. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I don’t know if I know how to do nothing,” Viktor laughed at his own confession, his smile growing wider. Maybe that was an odd thing, but the more he thought about it… He couldn’t remember the last time that he had absolutely nothing to do.

The revelation seemed to shake Yuuri, though. His own cocky smile faded, and suddenly, he looked stumped. “... I’m not sure if I do, either.”

“Well, I’m sure that between the two of us, we can figure something out.” Viktor reached for Yuuri’s hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss that warm, gold band nestled snugly around his fiance’s fingers. “I, for one, think we should start with that soup.”

“Alright.” Viktor wondered, if Yuuri guiding him to the sofa, was something of an extension of his promised evening of doing nothing; Viktor didn’t have to decide what they were eating, or where. He could just go along with whatever Yuuri had in mind. “It’s nothing special, I just used what we had in the fridge, but- Well, it fits tonight’s theme, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure it will be delicious, my Yuuri.” Viktor settled into his spot on the sofa, wrapping his favorite blanket around his shoulders. It was soft, thick but not too stifling. He and Yuuri usually bickered playfully over who would get to use it, but Yuuri didn’t even try for it this time, settling for the red and yellow quilt instead.

Viktor carefully picked up his bowl of soup, making a small show of smelling it before he took his first bite. The broth wasn’t quite hot enough to burn his mouth, and the large chunks of vegetables and beef were all so tender that they fell apart in his mouth.

He tapped his spoon against his lips thoughtfully. “Ah, but maybe some salt?”

Yuuri got up to fetch him the salt. And the pepper, too, a few minutes later, when the soup was still just a bit too bland. He refilled Viktor’s water for him, and got him a glass of wine, when he suggested that, maybe, tonight would be a good night to open up that bottle they’d been saving for a special day (which, subsequently, had been sitting on the counter, forgotten and gathering dust for months now). He even agreed to Viktor’s first choice in entertainment for the evening, despite the fact that Yuuri didn’t seem to care much for Russian soap operas. Even with subtitles, he had a hard time keeping up the plots and subplots.

In Yuuri’s defense, this particular serial was about five redheaded women who all had names that began with the letter  _ A _ . Not exactly the easiest story to follow. Half of the time Viktor wasn’t sure which woman was which, but for him, that was always part of the fun.

Viktor wouldn’t have minded, if Yuuri had objected. He was only half paying attention to the show, himself. As exciting as the drama between Anastasia and her ex-lover (and, according to another jealous ex, distant cousin) Aada was, Viktor had something far more entertaining in his living room.

_ Their  _ living room, he mentally corrected, looking down at the man curled up next to him. Yuuri’s hair was short now - cut just a little too short at his last appointment, which he claimed not to care about, but Viktor had caught him looking at it in the mirror with a melancholy expression multiple times - but somehow managed to look just as ruffled as it did when he wore it longer. This close, Viktor could see the fingerprint smudges on his glasses, and a few stubborn blackheads on his nose that, despite his coach’s best efforts, still refused to go away. His brows were furrowed, his mouth turned down in a frown, as he focused on the drama playing out on the screen in front of them. His lips were pressed into such a thin line, that Viktor could barely make out their usual shade of pink.

He was the most exquisite thing Viktor had ever seen. 

He loved Yuuri so much that, sometimes, his entire body ached with the intensity of it all. Sometimes his chest felt so full of affection that Viktor worried it might burst open. Sometimes it felt like his heart was doing quad flips in his chest, over and over again. Every day with Yuuri was a new surprise, a new adventure. Even just sitting together, like this, doing absolutely nothing at all, was more satisfying than any extravagant date with any other person had ever been. 

Which, he tried not to think about too much. That wasn’t a particularly pleasant mental image.

Viktor leaned around, the angle a bit awkward, but he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from kissing away the wrinkle between Yuuri’s eyebrows. “Don’t think about it too hard, my Yuuri. It’s supposed to be for fun.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” Yuuri extended his arms towards the TV in exasperation. “Anna and Anastasia have been rivals since the first season. Why wouldn’t Anastasia be suspicious of her motives? She’s just going to believe what this guy’s saying?”

Viktor frowned. Wait, what? “What does Anna have to do with this? She’s still vacationing in Italy.”

Yuuri shook his head, “Pretty sure she’s the one who just introduced this long-lost uncle. Not that he really is anyone’s uncle, I don’t know why anyone is buying that, it’s so obvious that he’s just there to mess everything up and steal their money, like everyone else on this show.”

“Yuuri, that’s not Anna.”

“It’s not?”

“No, that’s Catherine.”

Yuuri’s eyebrow twitched. “Who the hell is Catherine? That name doesn’t even start with the letter A-”

“My love,” Viktor couldn’t help laughing. It was so like Yuuri, to get so invested in a television show. “Like I said, you’re thinking too much about all of this.”

Yuuri groaned, slumping against Viktor. His weight felt warm and comfortable, and Viktor wrapped his arms around him without so much as a second thought. Being with Yuuri was always so natural, so easy - well, maybe it wasn’t always  _ easy _ , but even when it wasn’t, knowing that, at the end of the day, he wanted to be with Yuuri, and Yuuri wanted to be with him…

It made everything else easier. It made everything else less stressful. That gold ring on his finger meant that, no matter what, Viktor had something.  _ Someone _ . And having someone, having  _ Yuuri _ , filled a void that his career and all of the money in the world could never hope to fill. 

Viktor chuckled at himself; that little moral was a bit on the nose for Christmas time. How  _ unlike _ him, to be so predictable…

He reached for the remote, flipping the power button. He could order the series on DVD, if Yuuri really wanted to finish the story. But today was his day, and Viktor had had his fill of Anna and Catherine and all the rest of them. “Come on, my Yuuri, let’s just go to bed.”


End file.
